


The Inherent Eroticism of Running For Your Life

by hypnoshatesme



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, With some spice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26214316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme
Summary: Gerry had worried a lot about Michael insisting on coming along for the hunts, but never considered the fact that it might make for quite the view.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	The Inherent Eroticism of Running For Your Life

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in my "Abandoned Scenes" doc and decided to un-abandon it :)

Gerry had been sceptical about Michael coming with him on his jobs. It wasn't personal, but as much as Gerry appreciated Michael for many reasons, he just wasn't sure about bringing him along for the Leitner hunts. It was dangerous and Gerry felt bad, but he was afraid Michael, who tripped over his own feet on a regular basis, would get in the way. Or at least end up getting himself hurt.

But Michael had insisted until Gerry had finally agreed to take him along to one that didn’t sound too bad. Which, of course, meant it went south. There wasn’t meant to be a fight, the Slaughter shouldn’t have anything to do with the book they were going for. And yet they somehow ended up cornered by people with violence in their eyes, bloodthirst obvious with every movement. Gerry hated it when it was people. Monsters were easier to deal with. Gerry didn’t think much about killing  _ those _ .

To Gerry’s surprise, Michael actually did fine. He froze when they approached, but he snapped out of it in time to jump out of the way when one of them went for him. He wasn’t much of a fighter, of course, but he held his ground even though Gerry was somewhat worried about how much the hand clutching the knife was shaking. But he had no time to instruct Michael. He had to take care of the attackers. Michael helped, mostly by staying out of his way. By the time everybody was down, Gerry realised how impressed he was. It hadn’t gone as bad as he had feared. He himself was a little scraped up, some shallow cuts and bruises, but overall it seemed to be fine.

And then, of course, there was the view. When Gerry looked up to check on Michael he was met with wide eyes - not necessarily fear in them, but more of a wonder, disbelief at what had just happened, an intense awareness, eyes alight, making him look so incredibly alive, hair wild, cheeks dusted red, breath coming heavy. Gerry had frozen at the sight, forgotten that he had wanted to check on him, too struck by how utterly beautiful he looked right then, and Gerry had wanted to kiss him right there and never stop kissing him again. 

His mouth felt dry, suddenly. He dragged his eyes away, trying to focus on the task at hand. The book still had to be burned.

“Are...are you alright?” Michael’s voice was high-pitched and worried.

Gerry nodded, “Let’s...let’s burn the book.”

As they did just that Gerry's eyes kept being drawn to Michael, who had calmed down and seemed only a little scraped up, but still looked so intense, so beautiful, clothes dirty and a sleeve ripped - it didn’t look like the cut caught his skin - and Gerry couldn’t stop thinking how good he'd look outside of them.

Gerry had assumed it had been the novelty of it. Had assumed he wouldn’t be this overwhelmed by looking at Michael after every hunt. And to a certain extent that was true. But not completely. Michael kept being radiant after, alight with the remnants of adrenalin and Gerry couldn't take his eyes off of him. He was gorgeous. He always was, of course, but somehow he was radiating it after a hunt, no matter whether it went smoothly or not. When the book burned and his tight-strung body relaxed as the stress of it all bled out his face, he looked so happy, so satisfied, so in wonder at it all and Gerry wanted to hold him close forever. 

He didn't, of course. But Gerry never quite stopped looking at him as they made their way home. And Michael, who was a little dazed after the stress of a hunt, never really noticed, or maybe he didn't say anything. One way or another Gerry usually felt quite comfortable indulging himself.

Except for today. They had finished a relatively smooth job involving the Desolation and had been walking home, the cool night air soothing to the lingering heat, the couple burns they had gotten away with. It could have gotten more smoothly. As usual, Gerry had a difficult time not staring at Michael, but Michael had been eyeing him the whole way to their apartment. Gerry was a little annoyed because that meant he had to keep his gawking subtle. 

"What's on your mind?", Gerry finally asked when they were inside the apartment. Michael rarely talked much after a hunt until he felt like they were safe. Or as safe as it got for them, at least.

Michael got out of his coat, grimacing at the singed sleeves. He had liked this coat. "I'm just...surprised. You were so against me helping you out I...I guess I expected you to put up more of a fight after I've been on a couple of jobs and, well...seen how bad it actually was?"

Gerry pondered his answer watching him carefully remove the coat. He was sweaty and grimy, face still red, ponytail half-undone and messy, tips of his hair partly burnt. It really could have gone a bit more smoothly. Gerry still wouldn’t mind looking at him like this forever, eyes still a little wild as he looked down at himself, brows furrowing at the ripped knees of his jeans. Personally, Gerry thought they looked pretty good on him.

"I couldn't have known you'd look so hot hunting monsters, Michael," he said with a teasing grin, licking his dry lips. He should really get something to drink.

Michael’s jaw dropped, and Gerry was fairly sure he was somehow managing to turn even redder in the face. "Gerry! I'm being serious!"

Gerry grinned, pulling him down by his shirt. "So am I," he mumbled before pressing their lips together in a heated kiss.

A surprised noise escaped Michael and he stumbled at the sudden movement. Gerry walked him the last steps against the wall, and Michael kissed back when his mind vaguely caught up with what was happening. At least with his back against the wall he felt steady. And he wasn’t necessarily  _ opposed _ to the press of Gerry’s body against his, either.

Gerry took advantage of that, deepening the kiss, tongue running over Michael’s lips, fingers roaming his chest, desperate. Michael’s mind was spinning, taken aback by the sudden urgency. When Gerry’s fingers finally made it to the top button of his shirt and started to undo it, Michael broke the kiss, gently pushing Gerry back a little by his shoulders. The clear disappointment Michael saw on Gerry’s face at that made him huff a laugh. 

He gently pet Gerry’s cheek. "I’m sorry, Gerry, this isn’t happening. You're disgusting. I'm disgusting. Shower first." Gerry’s face pulled into the very definition of displeasure and Michael couldn’t quite quell another chuckle. “Do you want to go first?”

Gerry shook his head with a sigh, “No, I know how much you hate being disgusting, you go.” 

He stepped back, still looking like he'd rather not. Michael smiled, detaching himself from the wall and making his way towards the bathroom after stepping out of his boots. He ran a hand through his hair while doing so, detangling it from the hair tie before it finally fell loosely over his shoulders and down his back. He ran a hand through it, sighing at the singed tips.

"Will you help with the hair?" he asked, turning around to Gerry, who was still standing in the same spot and still staring at him with an expression that made the blood rise to Michael’s cheeks. 

Gerry grinned, "Maybe you'll set a trend, Michael."

"I don't even follow them, Gerry, I doubt I'll set any.” Michael chuckled, before giving Gerry a soft smile. “So, will you cut it?"

"Yeah, sure,” Gerry said with a nod, watching as Michael turned around and disappeared into the bathroom.

Gerry didn’t know how long he kept staring at that door before he remembered to follow.

*

“Were...were you being serious?” Michael asked softly, a hint of worry in his voice, as he watched Gerry cut his hair in the mirror. His heart had calmed down a little, mind attempting to process what had just happened. He felt awed, still a little surprised at Gerry liking him, wanting him, even after so much time had passed, even after they had moved in together and Gerry kept kissing him, touching him, looking at him with that gorgeous enamoured expression, eyes all soft and crinkling, smile wide and warm. He looked so in love in those moments that Michael’s chest tightened, his mind unable to wrap around the fact that Gerry was looking at  _ him _ like that, because of him. It was a wild concept to understand for Michael. 

“Hm?” Gerry looked up from Michael’s hair, meeting his eyes in the mirror. Michael gave him a moment. Sometimes Gerry took a while to understand when spoken to. A couple seconds passed and Gerry’s face lit up in recognition, a grin tugging at his lips. “Of course I was, Michael. Why would I lie about that?”

Michael blushed at the endeared tone. “Do I...distract you?”

Gerry’s grin turned into a frown and Michael wanted to take his words back and worry about it in silence. He couldn’t, though, so he had to wait for Gerry’s reaction, jaw tensing.

“No, you don’t,” Gerry finally said. “If you did, we would probably be dead by now,” he added with a playful wink into the mirror, grinning again. 

Michael couldn’t tell how much truth was in that joke, but he had to chuckle at the fact that he even had to consider that. His life had turned really strange if he was sitting here pondering which moments exactly would have ended in his death had Gerry been too busy ogling him. 

Gerry looked satisfied with himself at that and finished cutting the burnt tips of Michael’s hair before gently pressing his lips to Michael’s head. Michael made a face in the mirror, clearly grossed out by the fact that Gerry was kissing his gross hair. Gerry laughed.

“I do so well with not getting distracted by your striking beauty on jobs and then you still make such a face when I can finally indulge myself at home.”

Michael laughed, too, and shook his head in disbelief. “You have a strange definition of beauty, Gerry.”

Gerry pressed his lips to his temple. “It’s the only definition I care about.”

“Please stop kissing my sticky face, I really need to wash up,” Michael whined, still chuckling.

“Fine, fine.” Gerry gently pet his cheek before putting the scissors away and leaving the bathroom.

*

Gerry found Michael in the living room when he was done with his own shower. He looked at ease and comfortable, in a shirt that very much looked like it had once belonged to Gerry, his hair still damp. Gerry bent down from behind the couch, pressing his lips to Michael’s temple hands coming to rest on Michael's shoulders. 

"So, neither of us is disgusting anymore…", he purred, kissing his way down Michael's face, hands running down his arms.

Michael shivered at the sudden contact, and chuckled, looking up. "Are you still going on about that, Gerry? I thought the shower might’ve cooled you down."

Gerry grinned against his skin, teeth skimming the shell of his ear, drawing a small sigh from Michael. “You know I like my showers hot.” 

He ran his hands down Michael’s chest, noting the quickening heartbeat as he kissed a trail along his jaw. Michael sucked in a breath as he felt Gerry’s lips skim his neck, press against his pulse. Gerry grinned as Michael leaned his head to the side and Gerry followed the line of his craned neck with his lips.

"Gerry, are you being serious?,” Michael mumbled, breath hitching mid-sentence as Gerry’s teeth ran over sensitive skin, not quite biting, just making his hot breath against Michael’s neck more noticable, made Michael wish he would bite. 

Michael’s hand found its way into Gerry’s hair without Michael thinking about it, and thinking wasn’t much of an option in the first place when he felt Gerry’s hands slip underneath his shirt, warm against his cooling skin, and Michael arched into the touch with a hum.

Gerry chuckled, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to where Michael’s neck and shoulder met, tongue flicking over skin, making Michael’s hand tighten in his hair, drawing a shiver from him. 

“Do I seem to be kidding?” Gerry mumbled against his skin, before pressing more lingering kisses to Michael’s neck, fingers brushing over his nipples, making him gasp, lean into the touch.

Michael’s chuckle was breathy as he mumbled, “Can never know with you.” 

One of Gerry’s hands followed the trail of hair down Michael’s chest, fingers running through blond curls down his stomach. His lips had made it back to Michael’s ear, kissing and licking, the occasional drag of teeth that made Michael whine in an embarrassingly high pitch. Embarrassing in Michael’s opinion, that is, Gerry was beyond thinking coherent enough to judge. He only knew he wanted to hear more of it.

"Come to bed and I'll show you.” His voice was low and rough, and it sent a shiver down Michael’s spine. He managed to bite back the noise climbing up his throat, at least.

“Alright,” he breathed, turning his head to brush his lips against Gerry’s jaw before getting up and letting Gerry pull him into the bedroom.


End file.
